


The Mask Begins to Crumble

by zemira



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, One Night Stand, Or Is It?, Porn With Plot, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 13:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zemira/pseuds/zemira
Summary: The common trope “I somehow ended up sharing a hotel room with my ex, who I still immensely desire.”  Furihata Kouki hasn’t seen his ex, Akashi Seijuro, since their breakup twelve years ago. Now involved with his own career,  he attends a convention for the company he represents, at a famous hotel, not knowing that fate has a bit more in store for him than a simple formal assembly.





	The Mask Begins to Crumble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cerberos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberos/gifts).



Furihata Kouki emerged from a cloud of steam, towel draped around his neck. His chestnut tresses were damp, beads of water trickling onto his sweatshirt. He stepped into the hotel room, welcoming the blast of warmth from the automatic heating system. A droplet slid down his shoulders, causing a shiver to roll across his spine. Even if this wasn’t his first time visiting, this drastic temperature shift was still unfamiliar to him.

During this period of the year, back home, it wasn’t nearly as cold as it was here in America. Kouki wanted to scold himself for his carelessness. He should have been more prepared, his attire lacking the necessities needed to combat the chilly weather. But he had been too preoccupied in rushing to his flight, that he had thrown in anything that was in eye range. Hopefully it was only for the night, and by the morning, it would have warmed up a bit.

Usually, he would be in Japan, representing the company he was involved in. But his colleague, the designated one who made the trips to other countries, had fallen ill, and he was asked at the last minute to stand in his place. Kouki didn’t mind. It gave him a breath of fresh air, away from the stuffy environment. Even if he did enjoy his job, relocation was good every now and then.

As he was growing up, he always had a passion for trains. Knew that he wanted to do something with them. Write about them, maybe? Or, as he soon discovered later on in his twenties, work for a company that designed toy models of them. Beautiful models that would roam through expensive toy stores and extravagant hotels during Christmas, their lights illuminating the tracks, and creating a wonderful glow for onlookers.

It was a dream job, if he was to be asked. Though it was a ton of work, he enjoyed every minute of it. To see trains brought to life, to watch them circle around the track, to soar through tunnels and pass through the never ending villages.

Each piece, each section that they had put so much effort into was worth everything.

… For the most part.

There were exceptions. Such as squeezing them into a convention on the weekend the hotel was already swarmed. One of the extravagant hotels within the area, was so overbooked - people were asked, if it came to be - if they would share with another occupant that didn’t have a reservation. It was a rare event, and Kouki was unsure if hotels were even allowed to do that… but he supposed they were taking advantage of the bustling weekend.

Anything for money, right?

A sudden ring then interrupted his musing.

“Er, hello? Yes, I did agree to that. Okay. Thank you.”

The call ended, and he quickly peered around the room to assure the opposite side was clear. Kouki wondered if he was one, if not the only, to agree to allow a complete stranger to share the suite with him.

Honestly, it wasn’t much of an issue to him. It was as though it was a small house, almost hilarious for one person to be staying in. Aside from that, it would be a hassle for someone who didn’t want to travel to the next hotel. Which was probably miles away. He himself had been stuck in a few situations when he came across hotels with no vacancy, and never had he been given this opportunity. Of course someone, who was probably thoroughly exhausted and needed of much rest, would take that chance.  

 

Besides, it was just for one night.

 

Checking that the washroom was organized, Kouki placed his luggage in one of the closets, his papers for the upcoming morning to the side. Once finished, he settled into the bed he had chosen with a book in hand. After the previous hectic schedule, along with rushing to his flight, and then going through the convention, he had had no time to catch up on his reading. Now that the convention was through, he would spend a quiet night doing so. Besides, he was certain the stranger would only want to relax and wouldn’t be up to much talking.

That was perfectly fine with him. He himself was worn, completely drained from conversing all day with clients. But at least their model was one of the top to be invested into, and would probably be one of the first to make the market, right in time for the holiday season only a month away.

Absorbed in his reading, he almost didn’t hear the slight click. Kouki closed the novel and rose to greet them. He didn’t want to seem rude, and lying down while reading certainly would be that. Vaguely, he could hear the footsteps, the door slowly closing, and Kouki arranged a smile, ready to welcome them and probably laugh about the circumstances that led to this.

Only for the book to tumble down and impact his toes when his grip loosened. He barely had any time to complain about his abrupt injury, as he was sure his heart had stopped. The sensation in his arms had vanished, and he was certain his legs were soon about to collapse. Words were captured in his throat, and all Kouki could do was stare ahead, trying to grasp if this was truly happening to him.

The other occupant was immobile, gaze locked with his, though Kouki could tell they were more composed than he was. They didn’t appear shocked, or if they did, they were concealing it rather well.

 

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, they spoke.

 

“I must admit, this was the last I expected.” A pause. “Hello, Kouki. You are looking quite well.”

Was this a cruel joke? For the hotel to room him with his ex, the one who he hadn’t seen in twelve years? That he thought he’d never cross paths with ever again?

Akashi Seijuro – his first, his longest relationship, when he was sixteen – stood before him. Time had aged him, but had gracefully done so. Now at thirty-two, his features were the same, but more angled, more slender. If anything – and it pained Kouki to say this – he was the splitting image of his father.

During their relationship, Akashi had always had his mother’s eyes. Gentle, caring, and compassionate. Now,  though they were still mismatched, they were his father’s. Frigid, calculating. And Kouki would be lying if he said they didn’t frighten him.

“H-Hello, Akashi-san. It’s… been a while.”

Akashi nodded. “It has.”  He lowered his briefcase.  “Are you here for one of the conventions?”

“Ah, yes. I work for a company that designs model trains. O-one of our models was presented today.”

Geez, was he really stuttering? What was he, sixteen years old again? He couldn’t help it, though. Kouki was terrified, and it was taking a great deal for his brain and heart to connect and give him a valid manner to express himself.

They were both failing miserably in aiding him.

“You always did have an interest in that,” Akashi replied,  “I am glad to see you pursued it.”

“Y-yes.”  Kouki begged his vocal cords to modulate. “… A-and you? Are you here for a convention as well?”

Apparently, they too were ignoring him, or his vocal cords were as stunned as he was. Either way, it was difficult to compose his word structure.

“I am not. I was in the middle of attending a meeting on the other side of town, but I am far too exhausted to deal with it right now. Far too exhausted to care when I was asked if I wanted to share a room with someone for the night.”

Kouki wanted to snort. The Great Akashi Seijuro didn’t have high standards rolled out for him? Perhaps he wasn’t the same after all.

“However, I did not expect this. Especially in another country.”

His laugh was strained. “Things…happen... I-I guess.”

“I suppose.”

 

And then, to his dismay, their conversation ceased. Kouki panicked, desperately roving his mind to conjure up another ice breaker. But words  perished, and the awkward silence resumed. His eyes roamed the area – anywhere but Akashi’s face – until they had landed on the book he had dropped. It might have been a brusque excuse, but it was all he had at the moment.

“… You probably want to settle in. I’m going to go back to my reading.”

It was next to impossible to avoid that stare, but Kouki managed to turn on his heel. Only to pause suddenly when he reached his bed. Now that he was in the same room as his once-lover… relaxing for the night was futile. Instead, he settled for one of the sofa chairs that were by the balcony doors, and propped himself in one of those.

After what was probably ten minutes… although it felt much longer… Akashi rummaged through his luggage and headed for the washroom. The door closed, and Kouki was left with debating. Debating if he wished to stay.

How odd would it be if he vanished out of nowhere? Would Akashi track him down and confront him about the ordeal? It seemed like a silly thought… a useless try, but Kouki knew he couldn’t. They were into the night now, and searching for another hotel… (if Akashi couldn’t, how would he?) was out of the question.

So he would remain where he was, burying his nose in his book, and hoping morning would approach quickly.

And he’d no longer be within Akashi’s presence.

* * *

 

Insomnia wasn’t unfamiliar. Kouki had laid awake on countless occasions, staring blankly at the ceiling as he willed his mind to shut off. But he always continued to worry. Worry if their ongoing project would make the deadline, if a model was built well enough to where it wouldn’t be rejected, or about issues that weren’t work-related. Kouki had experienced restless nights prior to the present, but those had been nothing compared to this.

It was somehow worse when your ex-lover, whom you still desired, slept only a few paces away from you. Close, but still separate.

With the room bathed in darkness, it was difficult to see much, but Kouki could certainly hear. Every now and then, the bed across from him would creak, the sound of the occupant rolling around filling the air. For as long as he’d known Akashi, he had never been one to toss and turn in his slumber. He usually stayed asleep once he was down for the night. To hear an abundance of movement was odd. And, yet, Kouki was hoping it was for the exact reason he himself couldn’t rest easy.

Following their short, awkward conversation, no other words had been exchanged. The air had felt compressed, tension lingering above to where it had nearly suffocated him. They had both inconspicuously (or so they’d thought) glanced over to the opposite section when they were sure the other wasn’t paying attention. Kouki had preoccupied himself deliberately, looking through papers, sorting through email, and even going as far as to pretend he was on the phone. Anything to diminish the uneasiness some.

At the same time, there was plenty he wanted to discuss, yearned to know. What had Akashi been doing all these years? Why was he working around here? Had he undergone any life changing experiences? … Was he married? Kouki didn’t recall seeing a ring on his finger, but he wasn’t trying to make his curiosity obvious. And staring at Akashi’s hand would add to the already problematic situation.

But he couldn’t extinguish what he felt. Even if he wanted to.

Since they had broken up, he hardly had any interest in dating, choosing to focus on his career instead. Unsurprisingly, his family had asked him many times why he didn’t settle down, have kids of his own and be a family man. It was what most people Kouki knew had done. He was already in his early thirties, after all.

Still, he’d always been a little odd. Perhaps this was another part of that, or maybe he’d change his mind later. It wasn’t a big deal. To him, at least. His mother’s opinion on the matter was a different story.

However, harping on his problems wasn’t going to solve them. He had a ton of work to get through tomorrow morning, and staying up all night, tangled in a never-ending web of anxiety, wasn’t going to be very restful. Somehow, he was going to have to trick his mind into believing that Akashi was just a stranger sharing his room. That Akashi wasn’t the one he desired and yearned to be with, and that the night would progress how it was supposed to. How the foolish part of his brain wanted it to progress.

That was much harder than it sounded.

Kouki wiggled fruitlessly, desperately seeking a comfortable spot to lay in. He needed to concentrate on something that would bore him, that would lure him to sleep. Going over the numerous projects in his head usually worked, but that was the reason he ended up in this mishap in the first place. It wasn’t the company’s fault, though, but more that the hotel was crowded. He could only blame himself for agreeing to share his room for the night if it came to be.

But honestly, what were the odds this was going to happen?

He’d thought seeing Akashi again was one in a million. Never mind sharing a room with him. The universe was against him; fate had to have had him on her shit list for some strange reason. That was all he could think of, to torture him by sticking him in the same room with someone he not only still desired, but was certain he had lingering feelings for as well.

He could sense the mask beginning to crumble, the one he had fought so hard to construct. Years of building himself back up, years of moving on, but never forgetting, and now it was falling apart before him. While Akashi was still as composed as ever. Kouki was positive Akashi didn’t don a mask, at least none as weighty as the one he was struggling to support. The one that he used day in and day out to hide behind a smile that he knew consisted of nothing but lie after lie.

Uh, how was this helping him sleep, again?

Thankfully his eyelids had tolerated their share for the evening, and began to weigh everything else down. Now if only his mind would welcome their invitation, and allow him to sleep, then maybe he could ride out the night. Wake up the next morning, and hopefully Akashi would have left before him, and he could continue with what he had come here for all along.

Yes, that’s exactly what he would do.

Or at least somehow try to do.

Closing his eyes, he willed his mind as best as he could, slowly drifting into a restless slumber. Surely within the morning, this would all be over, and then everything would return to normal.

Even if he would still be ensnared in this unrequited love.

 

  

 

 

 

Wrestling to lull himself to sleep was common, practically a routine at this point. Interruption during sleep wasn’t. Usually when Kouki eventually hushed his mind, he would stay asleep until the scheduled awakening. The only few incidents were if he was ill, or if something loud had disturbed him. But it had to have been extremely obtrusive, as he was a heavy sleeper, and could probably continue even if a siren was wailing outside his window.

However, he couldn’t recall such a noise.

Kouki was unsure of how many hours had elapsed since he dozed off. Given how exhausted he felt, he knew it wasn’t enough. His eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the murkiness of the room, fixating on the blinds that veiled the balcony doors. It was still dark, no shreds of light creeping through, to where he was convinced he had only slept a few hours.

He tried not to groan.

What had awoken him? Kouki couldn’t recall any nightmare that would have yanked him from the core of slumber, the room was still quiet. Eerily quiet, but quiet. He didn’t seem alert, as he was ready to sink back into the pillows at any given second.

Perhaps it had just been another mishap.

 _Like the one you’re dealing with now?_ His mind taunted.

No, he was not standing for this again. It had taken him almost an hour to ease his mind, to kick his thoughts and fears aside, to finally be able to gather the rest he needed. But now he was awake… again, and he was clueless on how it happened, as there were no obvious signs.

None that he could see.

Wearily, and almost enviously, he peered across to the other bed. Akashi seemed to have settled in without any issues. So soundly that it was impossible to detect his breathing pattern. Ironically, as the remains of sleep sand began to dissipate, Kouki noticed the faint exhaling he could hear was stemming from the opposite side of where he lay.

But… there was no bed over there.

His eyes widened, realization finally clicking when he became aware of what had disturbed him.

There was a warm gust sweeping against his ear, temperate breathing that caused him to choke on the imminent gasp. He had to have been dreaming, somehow. Trapped in a illusion within another amazing, extraordinary illusion.

Because there was no chance this was happening.

“Kouki.”

Oh, that rich, savory pitch, the one that made his body quake. It had been forever since he heard his name said _that_ way. Only in his dreams of Akashi, in his wildest fantasies, did his name expel in such a guttural tone.

He had to be dreaming.

So, he did what he believed would rouse him fully, and pinched his skin. Hard. Kouki cringed at the reaction, but at least now he would return to where Akashi was still asleep across from him, in another bed. Or even better, it would be dawn. They would depart from the hotel, and go their separate ways once again.

… But is that what he really wanted? Maybe being locked in a dream as wonderful as this was what he needed all along.

“Kouki,” he echoed softly.

His arm throbbed … This wasn’t an illusion, was it?

Rendered speechless, Kouki fought to quell his frantic desire. Fearful his assumption was incorrect, he slowly, almost hesitantly, rolled around, shifting until he encountered his once-lover gazing at him. Akashi was laying on his side, but soon moved to hover over him, pinning him down with his hands, those smoldering, mismatched depths boring into his widened ones.

If this were indeed a dream, he was imploring the god of sleep for an extension. No matter how heart wrenching it would be in the morning when reality resumed.

Though, with each breath that mingled with Akashi’s… it was starting to feel more and more like it wasn’t.

“Kouki,” Akashi whispered, “I cannot pretend to ignore this anymore.”

… Was Akashi saying what he was hoping he was? That he…

Their gazes locked, Kouki’s pulse vibrating throughout his ears. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to say anything? Words deserted him, his heart racing a mile a minute, his widened eyes refusing to tear away from Akashi’s.

How was this…

His plight was then devoured in the form of Akashi’s lips sealing over his.

Oh gods, it had been so long since he felt them. Kouki resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Seijuro, wanting to do nothing but tug him forward and deepen the kiss. His lips moved with his, responding in the same, slow, kind motions Akashi had started with.

Separating their connection with a soft click, Seijuro laid a feathery kiss along his jaw, his lips descending until they were whisking against his thundering pulse. He kissed at the tender skin, journey descending until he reached the confines of Kouki’s neck.

Then to his dismay, Akashi paused.

“Is this okay?”

Was this okay? This was _more_ than okay. Kouki didn’t know why he bothered to ask. Yet, it had always been in Akashi’s nature to assure he was comfortable before he initiated any bold acts. Right now, though, that was the last matter he was concerned about, and Kouki was eager to jump over that hurdle.

He nodded.

Seijuro laid another kiss on his neck, once more pausing, when his lips reached the collar of his shirt.

“This is in the way.”

Almost immediately, Kouki shed it. Though, it was a challenge to steady his trembling hands. Reality had yet to sink in, to inform him that this was actually occurring, and not only within his fantasies. Shirt discarded, Akashi resumed his route, tongue swirling around his collar bone before slowly descending.

Lower, and…

“W-wait…”

Seijuro’s movements came to another halt.

“Um… it’s… it’s not fair that I’m this, and y-you’re not.” Geez, did he need any more ways to embarrass himself? “I-I mean th-that… you… er…”

Seijuro seemed taken aback, his brows knitted, puzzled as if that wasn’t the response he had been expecting. His lips then curled into a small grin, causing Kouki’s cheeks to pinken. How he had missed those impish expressions. He hoped that wasn’t the last one of the night.

What were they doing? Why were they? Kouki didn’t know, but was aware that his willpower was speedily dissolving. This was what he wanted, had wanted for years, and he wasn’t going to deny his heart anymore. Besides, by how Akashi was responding – that he had been the one to initiate this – he was certain this was what he wanted as well.

Kouki shook his head. Why was he questioning this? Instead, he was going to focus on and experience the intimacy he hadn’t felt for so long.

His heart thundered when Akashi hoisted his shirt over his head, gifting him a marvelous view of his once-lover’s physique. He had maintained his flawless shape, the muscles chiseled to perfection, the toned, marbled skin exactly how he remembered. Swallowing thickly, Kouki peered elsewhere, eyes chancing a quick glimpse to see Akashi discarding the fabric entirely.

The dim surroundings assisted him, melding his flushed expression with the shadows. His bed then creaked, and Kouki welcomed the extra weight, Akashi poised above, hands splayed at his sides, and disarming him with another fiery gaze.

Pulse drumming erratically, and breaths now quivering, he watched as Akashi descended. He shuddered, trying not to whimper when Akashi’s tongue flicked against one of his nipples, the point hardening instantly. Kouki was stunned at how responsive he was, as though these erotic sensations were completely new to his body. And in a way, he supposed that they were.

Yet, before Kouki could revel in the thrill, Akashi had resumed his journey, nipping and kissing his way down his torso. Pausing every now and then, he seized the soft skin between his teeth, tugging ever so lightly.

How he had missed this, hungered for it immensely. Far too much than Kouki wished to acknowledge.

Through an ardent view, he watched Akashi pause at the waistband of his pants, catching his approval, before slowly ridding him of them. It took Kouki every bit of self-discipline to not fling them carelessly across the room. He needed to be patient, to remain as calm as humanly possible.

But he was losing that battle rather quickly.

Seijuro placed another heated kiss on his abdomen, continuing to trail downward, until he met his swollen cock. Stifling another cry, Kouki shuddered when a hand curled around his base, Akashi leaning forward to flick his tongue along the slit. His fingertips briefly glided over the thick vein, lips parting as they finally secured around Kouki’s inflamed tip.

 

**_“Does it really have to be like this…? We’ve been… together for four years…”_ **

**_Akashi sighed, eyes downcast. “I know we have, and believe me, Kouki, I don’t want to do this. But it’s for the better. You know that as well.” Reluctantly, he raised his gaze. “We are heading down two different, extremely different paths… and it wouldn’t be right to force the other to follow.”_ **

 

His hands clutched the crimson tresses, nails digging into Akashi’s scalp and tugging on the silky strands when he began to bob his head. Kouki’s stomach fluttered, scrambled nerves mingling with his excitement to form a vigorous, toxic brew. Having it been years since he partook in these acts, Kouki knew his bounds had weakened, drastically. And he was disappointed in knowing completion wouldn’t be far off.

 

**_“B-but I don’t mind. I would follow you anywhere.”_ **

**_Akashi offered him a crooked, pensive smile. “If only it were that easy. You have your own goals, Kouki, and more than anything, I want you to complete them. To fulfill the life you asked for all along.”_ **

**_But Akashi was his life. He had been since they first encountered each other when he was sixteen… back on the courts… during an intense game… Now that he was no longer a teenager, Kouki was well aware what he wanted. And that was quickly disappearing before his very eyes._ **

**_…Yet at the same time, he knew Seijuro was right. That they were two different people, heading into two different lives… and their paths would never merge into one._ **

 

Akashi eased down, tongue gliding around his length as he took more of him in. Lips suctioned around his swollen crown oh so perfectly, only to slide back up with a flick of his tongue. Kouki fought to keep his eyes from closing, wanting to witness every bit of Akashi’s performance, to relive the past.  But the heat consumed him, the blind pleasure sending rows of shivers rolling down his spine.

 

**_“Besides.” Akashi’s expression depleted. “You are aware I have to take over the company for my father… that I… I will need to produce a heir so this legacy can continue.” He reached forward, fingertips skimming Furihata’s cheek “… I can’t do that to you, Kouki. I won’t make you stand by for that. It’s not fair, and I’m not going to allow it to happen.”_ **

**_Kouki’s eyes watered. “… I understand. You’ve known all along that this was coming… We’ve… known all along. I suppose we just got carried away…”_ **

**_“No,” Akashi demurred, “We did not get carried away.”_ **

**_Kouki’s forehead wrinkled, puzzled by the response._ ** ****

**_“We fell in love. And I don’t have a single regret that we did.”_ **

 

It was swift, too swift for his liking, but given how deft Akashi’s mouth was and his delicate, repressed state, it wasn’t a surprise when this anew bliss began to conclude. Hips elevating off the mattress, Kouki was then crying out, muffled, gibberish spouting from his lips, as he tumbled into his awaited paradise.

He wasn’t how long he laid there, panting heavily as he relished in sensations he hadn't experienced in… forever. As much as he yearned to move, his legs had distorted into a jellied state, delightful tingles vibrating all the way down to his toes and delivering him another round of pleasure.

There was a light kiss to his sweaty brow, and then to his chagrin, Akashi’s heat had vanished.

“I am afraid I didn’t bring anything with me,” the sound of his voice began to tow him from his euphoric state.

Akashi’s hand drifted against the side of the bed until he reached the nightstand.

“Usually they have samples of lotion in here.” He explored the first crate. “But this one doesn’t seem to.”

He sifted through the second one, repeating the same action, and becoming frustrated at the results.

“Perhaps they have some in the washroom. I will go and see.”

Despite how winded he was from his trip to the long-awaited paradise, Kouki quickly rose to stop him, his fingers encircling around his wrist.

“I-It’s all right. We don’t have to.”

Akashi frowned. “Kouki, this isn’t wise at all. It will be extremely painful.”

“It’s okay.” Kouki laughed gingerly. Though it was more to hide his uneasiness. “It’s not a problem.”

The response didn’t appease Akashi. His gaze roamed around the room, as though he was searching for something. Or ignoring him, either way, he seemed hell bent on it.  Seconds after, his focus returned to him, eyes shimmering as though he had settled on an uncomplicated option.

“I may have an alternative,” he spoke, “Lay on your stomach for me, Kouki.”

Puzzled, Kouki balanced on his knees, hands splaying across the mattress.

Once in the requested position, belly flat against the sheets, nimble hands slid along the curve of his hips, stopping on the tender planes of his thighs. His breath hitched when Akashi dipped to plant a soft kiss on his backside, the distraction used to press a digit against his entrance. Kouki flinched, trying not to whimper at the raw feeling. It had been a while since anything foreign had penetrated him. Another finger soon joined, slowly probing through his narrow opening, and scissoring to loosen the tensed muscles.

Fuck, that was painful. No matter how skilled and attentive Akashi was being, it still stung.

To his relief, Akashi’s digits soon retracted, but he couldn’t help but wonder why the prep was so brief. Had Akashi noticed he was uncomfortable? He did have the tendency to read people easily, therefore, it was quite possible. Theory vanishing, his confusion only multiplied when the sensation of Akashi’s warm breath fanned against his skin.

Until he realized why his once-lover was so close.

Rather than Akashi's heated tip prodding at him, it was the slickness of his tongue pushing inside. The intrusion widened him even more, the tip thrusting against his inner walls and choking any impending breaths.

Kouki’s mind frayed, warping into a vortex of cluttered thoughts. Resisting the urge to wriggle back, he closed his eyes as a shudder coursed down his spine, the heat and the wetness rebuilding his ecstasy. It took all his lingering sanity to not collapse to his knees, wanting to do nothing but indulge in a pleasure he hadn’t experienced for years.

Oh gods, it had been so _long_.

Fingers clawing at the sheets, Kouki had begun to pant freely, teeth quivering against his bottom lip. Akashi's tongue lapped against his silken walls, expertly charging into the spot that roused him the most. Even after what felt like decades apart, the man still had an ingenious control over his senses, knew every area that drove him to the brink.

Every part of him seemed to bend to his will.

"Sei," he managed to gasp, “I don’t think I —”

Akashi paused abruptly in his delightful torment, eliciting a small whine. The bed creaked when he moved upward, arms resting on Kouki’s sides as he drooped to murmur into his ear.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last heard that name.”

His pulse nearly ceased. In his euphoric haze, the name he had affectionately gave Akashi a year into their relationship had stumbled from his lips. Was it wrong to have uttered it? Only when he was wrapped in the throes of passion, did that name slip so freely. But given their circumstances, Kouki couldn’t help but regret his actions. What is he had annoyed him by doing so?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean —”

The remainder of his apology drowned in another strangled sob, Seijuro's tongue relentlessly resuming its heavenly agony. Kouki could feel his nails digging into the sheets, knees trembling pitifully as he fought not to crumble. His cock throbbed painfully, the tip bubbling and smearing against the fabric, delivering him another round of pleasure.

A shaky breath expelled when Akashi finally retreated, shivers still vibrating up and down his spine. Lost in a fog, he almost didn’t notice when Akashi was once more leaning over him.

“This should be enough.”

Heart drumming powerfully, Kouki felt the other shift behind him. Akashi muttered lowly, practically incoherently, the covers rustling beneath them. There was another pause, and then fingers were curling around his hips. Seconds following, a warm gust was fluttering against his ear, Akashi’s nose brushing against the shell.

The rustling of fabric caused his face to burn.

“Are you ready, Kouki?”

He shuddered at the rumble in Akashi’s tone. Though uncertain, and if he might add, a bit anxious, Kouki found himself nodding. It had progressed this far, so why was he going to deny what came after? Especially with the fierce desire he still harbored for Akashi, to be captured in Akashi’s embrace. He didn’t know what the outcome of accepting would be, but he was willing to gamble with fate.

Besides… it was only for tonight.

Seijuro’s tip nudged at his entrance, slowly beginning to stretch the small, taut ring. He tried not to flinch, but the searing agony was paralyzing. Years had elapsed since he had been widened to this degree, been breached beyond his limit, and the girth of Akashi’s length wasn’t diminishing the discomfort any.

Despite how firmly he had been clenching his teeth, a whimper escaped. The sudden noise resulted in Akashi’s movement abating. Kouki squirmed in disapproval, his answer expelling in a strained, stammering breath.

“I’m… okay.”

But as he advanced, Kouki moaned painfully, causing Akashi to come to a complete halt.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t go any further.”

Furihata raised his head, shaking it vigorously. “N-no. I want to. I’ll be fine.”

He heard Akashi sigh, remorsefully, and Kouki wondered if he was going to discontinue their copulation. There was then a weight on his back, Akashi reaching forward to clasp his trembling hand. His fingers laced within his, squeezing them in a comforting manner, and soothing his jittery nerves.

The benevolence provided the needed distraction, allowing him to sheathed himself entirely.

Seijuro rocked his hips tentatively, cock retreating, before it leisurely glided back inside. Dipping his head, he began to dust kisses along Kouki’s neck and shoulders. Teeth faintly grazing, the supple skin pinkened under his numerous caresses, his tongue poking through to relieve some of the irritation. 

More than anything, Kouki wanted to concentrate on the staggering heat, to let it engulf him. But it was unbearable, sharp pains shooting throughout his body. His lower half ached, hips quivering. While the probing of Akashi’s fingers had stung, it was nothing compared to what he was enduring now. This was excruciating, almost as if they were reliving their very first time together.

Bittersweet memories began to trickle through his sentimental barriers, causing his eyes to swell. Kouki immediately reeled them into a vacant corner of his mind, insuring any other nostalgia from seeping past the blockade he had fought so hard to build. He didn’t need to be an emotional wreck when he knew they were still separated. This was merely a lustful rendezvous, where Akashi and he had abandoned control of any logic and fallen victim to the passion. There was no time to discuss their past, to speak of anything remotely close to their feelings.

Which he was sure no longer existed. 

Vaguely, still ensnared in his pathetic recollection, he could hear Akashi struggling. Was the pace too slow for him? Their rhythm had never been so languid before, so it did have a possibility. Not unless he counted…

Akashi captured his ear, tugging gently on the lobe. 

“You’re tight, Kouki. Tighter than usual. If I may ask… when is the last time you engaged in this?”

Kouki swallowed thickly, the tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. No, he wasn’t going to cry. He would be able to deliver a straight response without the risk of a break down. After all, this was a onetime event. Emotions shouldn’t have been shown during that.

Despite the discomfort, Kouki was relieved for their current pose. He wouldn’t have to directly face Akashi when he replied, knowing very well he was awaiting his answer.

So with whatever remaining sanity he could gather, he whispered:

“I-it was w-with you.”

Akashi’s thrusts then froze, the sudden pause quickening his pulse. Had that been the wrong answer? What had he caused by saying that? Given the extreme effort that had gone into this, Kouki had wanted to be honest. He couldn’t fabricate the truth; their relationship was the last time he had been involved in anything so profound. Sure, he dated others, but he never allowed it to progress past that.

As pitiful and cliché as it may have sounded, he had no interest. He was stuck on the one that got away, and he wasn’t about to confess that to anyone.

His hysteria expanded, panic soaring when Akashi retreated completely, cock sliding from his swollen hole, and causing him to cringe. Now he was sure he had royally fucked up.

To his surprise, he was then carefully placed onto his back. Kouki was forced to confront his fear, in the eyes of Akashi. But instead of displeasure, Seijuro was staring down at him, concerned, mismatched depths a gentle stance.

“I will be extremely cautious, then.”

He slowly lifted one of Kouki’s legs, curling it at the knee as he angled it over shoulder. This new position made for an easier access, alleviating the soreness quite a bit. Kouki breathed another shaky sigh, content that maybe now he would be able to focus on the pleasurable sensations rather than the pain. 

Akashi bent forward, connecting their mouths, and providing another wondrous diversion. His arms wound around Akashi’s neck, pulling him against his chest, lips trembling to restrain a choked sob when their nipples brushed delightfully against one another.

These hours were precious to him, even if Seijuro didn’t feel the same way, and he was going to embrace them for as long as he could.

For when dawn rose, everything would return to normal.

The steady momentum resumed, but unlike the previous round, Seijuro could move with ease. With this new arrangement, Kouki realized if they had done this position in the first place, it might have abated the pain faster. If he wasn’t so absorbed with his emotional turmoil, he might have suggested it himself. But now they had bypassed that, and he was more than eager to go on.

He clutched at Akashi’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin and scraping along his back. Although he wasn’t certain about his decision, his hips began to move by their own accord, hoping it would encourage Akashi to hasten the tempo. He was rewarded with another kiss, Akashi’s tongue sweeping over his lips, and requesting entry, which is he quickly granted.

Kouki broke off their dance, cheeks flushed, and panting harshly.

“You… can go faster.”

His once-lover gazed at him, the concern reflecting in those mismatched depths.

“I’m okay,” Kouki reassured, “I promise.”

And then, without any hesitation, his request was wordlessly fulfilled.

Furihata groaned. This pace was much more gratifying, Akashi’s tip charging into the spot that delivered him the utmost pleasure. His arms wobbled, his heels drilling into the sheets. Tilting his head back, Kouki closed his eyes and allowed himself to become lost in the frenzy, a frenzy he had yearned for, for so long.

Obeying his plea, Akashi thrusts switched angles, constantly driving against the small nub inside. Freeing one of his arms from around the other’s neck, Kouki reached above him, threading his fingers through the crimson tresses, and using the leverage to seal another kiss. The heated friction felt wonderful, easily tightening the coil of pleasure building in his center, but Kouki was determined to hold out as long as he could. No matter how hopeless an effort it might prove to be.

His lips parted, but any impending words were stolen by Akashi’s own. Kouki moaned around his agile tongue, feeling it sweep over his row of pearly whites before circling back to entwine with his. The choir of his pleasure was replaced with a sharp gasp, Akashi’s length surging deep into the silken walls and piloting into the spot that delivered him the ultimate satisfaction.

Seijuro then leaned forward, his lips skimming along one reddened ear before seizing the lobe in between his teeth. Dull fingernails digging into Seijuro’s back, Kouki reclined his head, allowing his once-lover to create a wonderful canvas of vibrant marks along his neck and collarbone.

Consequences of these perilous acts were the furthest from his mind. Not when the friction was so intense, not when Akashi completed him in ways no other could. There was still pain, yes, but it was slowly being replaced with the countless emotions he was undergoing. None of that mattered anymore. Akashi was there again, after endless days, and so many restless nights of being without him.

Any reverie dissipated when a hand rested on his leaking cock, slowly beginning to tug and match Akashi’s thrusts. Kouki’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head at the sudden rush. Raising a hand, he bit into his knuckle, hoping it would abate the loud moan that was stinging his lungs and burning his throat.

“Kouki.” Seijuro’s tone was hoarse, smoky. “Don’t restrain the sounds you make, the ones you make only for me. I want to hear every single one of them. Let me see your face as you begin to reach the edge.” Oh gods, it had been so long since he heard that breathy voice. “You’re there now, aren’t you? Don’t resist. Come for me, Kouki.” 

The flourishing coil in his belly reached its extent. Kouki’s eyes slammed shut as he began to topple over the edge, his silken walls encircling tightly around Akashi’s still striving member and guiding it into the final pinnacle. Hips elevating, Kouki cried out a jumbled version of his once-lover’s name, his cock twitching and spurting its satisfaction onto his stomach, coating Akashi’s hand.

Eagerly tugging Seijuro into another kiss, Kouki groaned when he began to fill him to the brim. From their past experiences, he was aware of what this would result in, leaving them with quite a bit to clean after. But at the moment, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered right now other than the shattered bond they had, slowly reconnecting. Even if it was only for this night, he would continue to revel in the warm and fulfilling sensations.

He was motionless, quiet, as he listened to their mingled heartbeats, enjoying Akashi’s head tucked into the crook of his neck. Hesitantly, he combed his fingers through the clammy, dark tresses, wanting to cherish every aspect, every piece of him, and lock it in his memory forever.

Because when the night was through, he knew they would be no more. As much as they had agreed their separation was for the better, Kouki wasn’t sure about that decision anymore.

But he would keep those thoughts to himself, regardless of how painful it might have been. All he could do now was indulge in the moment, and hold onto Seijuro for the remainder of the night.

Yes, that’s what he would do as long as Akashi permitted him to, for when morning approached, Akashi would no longer be his.

* * *

 

**_"Fall out of love with me, Kouki. Pretend as if I never existed, and I… will do the same for you.”_ **

Kouki fixed his collar, adjusting it to conceal the numerous marks imprinted across his skin.  Honestly, he didn’t mind them. In fact, he was elated to have something to treasure from that memorable night. Up until the dreadful day they faded. However, right now, he did have to maintain his professional appearance. Stumbling into his next meeting with an appearance of someone who had been completely ravaged wasn’t going to aid him in gaining any new contacts.

Though what he really wanted - as he watched Akashi exit from the hotel, carrying his own luggage - was to crawl back into bed. Crawl under the blankets and hide himself away for the day, enveloped in his last hours with Akashi, and cherishing their final time together. Moments he knew he was never going to experience again, would never cross paths with the one he knew he was desperately in love with. His first, and forever, his one and only.

But that wasn’t how it was, and he knew he had to accept that. This was nothing but a simple tryst. Both of them had caved and surrendered to the repressed passion. It was meant to stay in that one night, and that’s where it was going to remain.

Footsteps disturbed his troubled musing.

Kouki tried to greet him politely, as how a friend would be expressing their departure to the other. Not as though he had just been reunited with the one he adored more than anything in the most wonderful of ways, and now it was as if it never occurred in the first place.

His teeth ached at how rigid his smile was becoming, but he was hoping it would camouflage that he was going to break down and collapse on the pavement.

Because that’s exactly what he felt was about to happen.

Akashi seemed distracted, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within him, instead preoccupied with a wrinkle he was trying to rid his suit of. Even in the early hours of the morning, Kouki still found him absolutely flawless. Then again, this was Akashi Seijuro he was speaking of. It would be a taboo for him to be anything but flawless. No matter what the occasion was.

“Kouki.”

The sudden utterance of his name caused him to snap to attention. Reluctantly, he peered over at Akashi, who was now focused entirely on him. Maybe it was his imagination, or the shred of hope he pitifully clutched, but Akashi appeared unsettled. Though only his eyes flashed it for a split second, and then they were back to their composed, aloof state.

“There is a lot I need to sort out, but eventually, I will be able to break away from it and handle everything by myself.”

Furihata graced him with a puzzled stare. Why was he telling him this? What business was it of his what Akashi did with his life?

“When that time is near… I will come for you.”

And it was in that moment, Kouki was sure his heart ceased. Was his once-lover indicating what he thought he was? That he…

“B-but what about the company? The heir, and having to be married?”

Akashi sighed, somewhat heavily, somewhat disappointed. “It does not matter anymore. I have been following what someone else has wanted for me. Not what I have wanted.” His gaze was once more upon him, though there was something now churning in those mismatched depths. “And what I want, is you.”

He was straight to the point, as he always had been. There might have been periods in the past when Kouki despised that, but right now, he couldn’t have been more thankful for that brusque behavior.

“I have known this for quite a while, but I wasn’t sure how to react to that decision. This, however, has granted me the answer I have been seeking. Fate brought us together for a reason, Kouki, and I am not about to ignore it.”

If he thought he was in danger of collapsing on the pavement before, the risk now was inevitable. His legs wobbled, his throat bubbled, and if it wasn’t for the pillar beside him, Kouki was certain he would have succumbed by now.

“I don’t wish to interfere with your path. I want you to accomplish your current goals, and then we will meet halfway.” Seijuro paused, the unsettled expression in place once more. This time, much longer. “If you will have me.”

He had to have still been asleep. Ensnared in some incredible dream where Akashi was declaring words he had yearned to hear. There was no possible way this was reality, a reality that only brought him absolute misery each day since the failure twelve years ago.

“I-isn’t this going to destroy everything you worked so hard for?” he found himself saying, “You were so… you wanted to do so much years back, and you’ve done that… s-so isn’t this going to…”

Akashi shrugged curtly.

“I can do fine on my own. What I cannot do, is live with regret in knowing I surrendered the one happiness that mattered the most to me. Probably the only happiness.” Akashi chuckled, somewhat bitterly. “I’m sure I’ll be shamed for this decision, but it is better than living with knowing what I could have had, or building a future with someone I have no desire to.”

Kouki frowned. “Shamed? I-I don’t want that to happen.”

“It is fine.” Akashi waved it aside as though it wasn’t an important part of his life. “I’m more concerned about what your answer is.”

His confusion only multiplied. “My answer?”

Seijuro nodded. “Yes, Kouki. What is your answer?”

Was Akashi inquiring what he had been yearning for what seemed like eternity? Kouki wasn’t confident in responding, in fear that his entire assumption was wrong, and it wasn’t what he was anticipating all along. 

Thankfully, Akashi was quick-witted, as usual, and saw right through his suspicion.

“What I am asking is… if you will wait for me.”

If it had been anyone else, the request would have sounded self-centered. Even so, Akashi was willing to arrange Kouki’s ambition to be ahead of everything else, for him to continue his goals. This wasn’t something he had to consider, though, not for a second. Kouki knew all along what he had desired, what he had craved more than anything. And the night that they shared after so many years apart had only enhanced that.

Of course, he knew what his answer was. It had been known for _so_ long.

He smiled, a genuine smile, one that wasn’t forced.

 “Y-yeah. I will.”

For some odd reason, Seijuro’s features mirrored surprise. Did he believe Kouki wasn’t going to accept? Perhaps he wasn’t the only one affected by their split. Akashi’s mask was finally beginning to crumble, and Kouki was realizing that he was almost as insecure about the whole matter as he was. _Almost_. It made him feel better, though, in knowing he wasn’t going through the turbulence of last night’s events alone.

Seijuro then returned his pleased expression, grasping one of his hands and smoothing his thumb against it.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

His intended words were drowned in a gasp when Furihata was suddenly tugged forward. Seijuro raised his briefcase, concealing them from any prying eyes, before planting a soft kiss. He paused, sparse inches apart, his warm breath fanning delightfully over Kouki’s lips, as though debating his next course of action. They stared at each other for a short period, and then he was once more dipping forward, sealing the gap with another extended kiss.

Fingers crept onto his cheek, Akashi’s hand descending to cup his jaw, and attempting to deepen their embrace.

Regrettably, their wistful haze was interrupted by the sound of a car nearing. The link between them severed when Akashi withdrew, robbing him of the glow that Kouki longed for. Yet, it returned a second later, Akashi’s thumb swiping gently across his now swollen lips.

“I’m afraid I must go.” His voice was low, pitch tender. “For now. It will take a year, the most, for me to get everything in order, but until then…”

His mind clicked, alerting his overwhelmed heart of the forthcoming. Evading it recklessly, Kouki abandoned what uncertainty lingered, and ignored any ominous signs, launching himself at Akashi. Without a shred of hesitation, his arms looped around his neck, pressing himself as close as distance would allow.

Akashi’s eyes widened slightly, nonetheless, welcomed the impulsiveness entirely. They remained in that position for what Kouki was hoping would be hours, his cheek resting on Akashi’s shoulder. Head raised, their lips were spaces apart, and Kouki waited for another kiss.

But to his dismay, Akashi had once more began to recede, though he seemed completely reluctant.

“Goodbye, Kouki.”

The last incident those words had been present for, was the termination of their relationship. Where Akashi would be absent from his life for what he knew then as forever. Never had a simple phrase been so heart wrenching. He had echoed them, of course, stating his own farewell, knowing that this was the end of something that meant the world to him.

“I will be seeing you soon.”

His heart pulsed happily, the misery of goodbye gaining a harmonious meaning when it was neutralized by Akashi’s promise. Drifting in a stupor, Furihata watched him move toward the limo. Even though his back was now toward him, Kouki found it impossible to glance anywhere else, still having difficulty accepting this wasn’t a dream.

A wonderful dream, where Akashi and he reunited, with a promise of a future together. 

It was then when realization struck, and Kouki quickly snapped from his trance.

“Wait!”

Seijuro instantly turned around.

“I… don’t have your contact info, and you don’t have mine. H-how will —”

“How will I find you?” Akashi’s mouth curved. “I found you now, did I not? Completely in a different country. Do not worry, my love. If our paths are entwined, we will find each other again. I have no need to be concerned over that, and neither should you.”

Bestowing him with one last, avid gaze, Akashi climbed into the limo, slowly closing the door behind. Kouki waited as the car departed, counting the seconds until it had completely vanished from the hotel parking lot and from his view.

His thoughts were in shambles, but he wasn’t complaining. He himself had a lot to sort out, to bring into order before he met up with Akashi again. A year might have seemed long, but he was going to do everything in his power to assure it flew by.

If he ever thought this would happen, when he accepted the invite to cover for his ill coworker, Kouki never would have imagined it would play at like this. That that one little mishap gifted him what he had been yearning for, for so long.

Time wasn’t a strain anymore, for now it was finally moving forward for him. Akashi could have been in his forties, even his fifties, and if he still presented the offer, he would have jumped at the opportunity. And he wasn’t ashamed to admit that to himself. What had happened in the past, when they both were unsure what the future was going to - choosing to stay focused on their own goals, their own lives - was going to remain there. Now, they could look forward to a future, and if Kouki had any say, it was going to be a hell of a much brighter one now.

A honk caused his shoulders to jerk; he had almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made his way toward his ride, trying to conceal the abundance of emotions. He cautiously restored the mask, trying to allay his chaotic mind for the time being. When he returned home, he would be able to express his joy, sob from the lost years, and relish in the excitement as he counted down the days that he would be able to reunite with Akashi once again.

This time, he would assure they would do it right.

And never part ever again.

 


End file.
